Chapter 179: The Incompetent Ones

"Order the HMS Wales to attack from the left! Bombard the French ships and send them all to the bottom of the sea. At the same time, have Evans' second squadron cut off the French retreat," commanded Hood aboard the ship.

"Yes, General," replied the British signal officer, who immediately climbed to the highest point of the warship and signaled the order. Hood had commanded the foremost British warships to form a line abreast, the classic naval battle formation.

Sail-powered ships of the line typically mounted their cannons on the sides of the vessel, so this linear formation could maximize their firepower, making it a commonly used tactic in naval warfare.

"Distance to the enemy ship: nine miles!"

"Distance to the enemy ship: eight miles!"

"Distance to the enemy ship..." The artillery spotter on the leading British warship was closely monitoring the range markers and continually calculating the distance between the British and French ships.

"Distance to the enemy ship: two miles! Ready to fire," the British artillery spotter reported.

"Fire at will," Hood commanded.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

With Hood's order, the British gunners immediately began firing, sending a barrage of cannonballs towards the French ships.

"Splash, splash!"

Given the considerable distance, only a few of the British shots hit the French ships, while the rest splashed into the sea, raising plumes of water.

"General, the British are attacking!" a soldier urgently reported to Bitt aboard the French ship.

"What are you waiting for? Return fire!" Bitt shouted angrily, clearly incensed by the British action.

"Fire! Return fire!" Under Bitt's command, the French gunners began to fire back at the British ships.

Unfortunately, the French artillerymen seemed inexperienced with their ship's cannons. By the time the British had fired two volleys, the French had only just finished loading their powder. Even in their hasty attempt to load and fire, few of their shots hit the mark, causing minimal damage to the British ships.

"Damn it, how can you miss so badly? Not a single hit!" Bitt roared in frustration at the dismal accuracy.

"General, engaging the British at this range doesn't favor us. If we can close the distance, our firepower advantage will be more effective," suggested a cautious staff officer to Bitt.

"If that's the case, what are we waiting for? Charge!" Bitt urged.

"Marshal, the French are charging at us. Do they intend to ram our ships to destroy them?"

"They're likely trying to make up for their poor gunnery by closing the distance. But do they think I'll give them that chance? Relay my orders: all ships are to fire simultaneously, concentrate fire on that French ship of the line. If I'm not mistaken, that's their flagship, and their commander is on board," Hood commanded. He noticed the French ships starting to turn, indicating they intended to engage broadside.

With Hood's order, the British ships spread out and began firing their 32-pounder cannons, targeting the French ships. The British ships executed a broadside, aiming to unleash a barrage of cannonballs on the French and sink them as quickly as possible.

The French ships bravely returned fire, but their vessels were much older and inferior in both firepower and defense compared to the British ships. Their gunnery was also less accurate, causing them to gradually fall behind in the exchange.

"Boom!"

A massive explosion echoed from the French flagship, engulfing it in smoke. A 32-pound cannonball from the British ship HMS London struck the French ship, creating a large hole in its wooden hull.

The damage looked severe, but the ship was still seaworthy. However, Rear Admiral Bitt, the French fleet commander, was visibly shaken.

In the command room, Rear Admiral Bitt shouted frantically, "Turn around! Retreat!"

"But, General, if we turn now..." the ship's captain started to protest, only to be cut off by Bitt.

"Didn't you hear me? Turn around now, or are you disobeying my orders?" Bitt yelled, terrified by the intense British bombardment and desperate to escape.

"Turn around! Retreat!" The captain, left with no choice, issued the order to retreat.

Under Bitt's almost hysterical orders, the French ships began to slowly turn around.

"What are the French doing? Have they gone mad?" the British naval officers exclaimed as they watched the French retreat. They couldn't understand why the French navy would turn around at such a critical moment, essentially inviting more hits.

"Hood, Marshal?" The bewildered British officers turned to Hood for answers, recognizing his seniority and experience.

If Nelson was the young and vigorous face of the British navy, Hood was its most seasoned veteran. Otherwise, he wouldn't have risen to the position of First Lord of the Admiralty amidst the elite of the British navy.

"If the French naval commander doesn't have some hidden strategy, then he is a complete fool and a madman," Hood remarked.

To be honest, he didn't know what the French naval commander on the other side was doing. Ever since he joined the Royal Navy almost forty years ago, Hood had experienced hundreds of battles, big and small, facing all sorts of enemies and their conspiracies. But he had never seen anything like this before; Hood even doubted whether the French commander could even command a fleet.

In fact, Hood was right. Rear Admiral Bitt had risen to his position purely by patronage, having participated in the Revolution and maintained a close personal relationship with Vice Admiral Villeneuve. Napoleon's neglect of the navy had also allowed him to climb to the rank of Rear Admiral.

"Enough! No use thinking about that now. Sinking the enemy ships is the priority. Besides, even if the French have some tricks up their sleeves, our forces outnumber theirs. They won't find it easy to use any cunning," Hood thought to himself.

Having made up his mind, Hood immediately issued orders, "Order the HMS Oxford and HMS Wales to converge immediately. Send another three battleships to concentrate fire and eliminate these four French warships."

General Hood had already given the captains of the main ships the order to do their utmost to attack the French flagship in the upcoming confrontation. Particularly, the HMS Oxford and HMS Wales, both newly built warships, were especially powerful. Hood demanded that these two warships must utilize their strengths to achieve results as quickly as possible. This way, the Royal Navy would have an easier time securing victory in this battle. Meanwhile, the other warships closed in from both sides to encircle the French fleet and annihilate them outside the harbor.

Meanwhile, Rear Admiral Evans, Deputy Commander of the British Home Fleet, also issued orders to the captains of the main ships. He particularly emphasized to the two battleships at the end of the line that after the battle began, they must form a blockade line and sink the outermost French warships as quickly as possible. If successful, the Royal Navy would have free rein to attack the French naval harbor.

With Hood's orders issued, the British warships once again sprang into action, maneuvering to encircle and attack the French fleet.

On board the French flagship, Admiral Bitt grew increasingly frantic. His face had turned so dark it seemed water could drip from it. His hands were tightly clenched, his knuckles almost white with tension. It was clear just how nervous Bitt was at that moment.

"Damn it! How could this happen? Have the British become so powerful? I originally thought that even if the French navy couldn't beat the British, the difference wouldn't be so great. How could we be completely suppressed by the British today? If I had known this, I would never have joined the navy," Bitt raged in his mind.